INDIA'S ANCIENT BOOK OF PROPHECY - Bhrihu Nandi Nadi astrology -Maha Rishi Brighu AN INCARNATION OF Sri Vishnu:

ऩाडी ग्रंथ भविष्य

सन 1959 मधे अँडर्स बी जॉनसन यांनी बरनाला येथे भृगु संहितचा अनुभव विषद केला आहे. तो वाचायला आवडेल.

INDIA'S ANCIENT BOOK OF PROPHECY - Bhrihu Nandi Nadi astrology -Maha Rishi Brighu AN INCARNATION OF Sri Vishnu:

Chapter 1.

"Have you ever heard of Bhrigu?" Raja Mrigendra Singh's voice carried a note of suppressed excitement.
It was in that eternally fascinating country, India, in the town of Patiala, Punjab. The date was November 29, 1959. My questioner, a local prince, had come to visit me at my temporary residence on Press Road. Tall, of striking features, smartly turbaned after the custom of the Sikhs, his eyes expressive of a character in which strength and kindness were pleasingly blended: I had felt instantly attracted to this man from the moment I had first seen him.
"Bhrigu?" I echoed my friend's query somewhat uncertainly.
"Bhrigu was a noted rishi (sage) in ancient India", my guest explained.
Now I remembered. This venerable name appears often in Puranic Scriptures. It is also mentioned in the ancient Bhagavad Gita, the "Hindu Bible".
My guest continued: "Bhrigu wrote a book. It is thousands of years old. It contains prophecies about the lives of millions of people, many of whom are living today".
I lowered my gaze in sudden embarrassement. How simply preposterous! Even if such a book could be written, how much would it manage to say about "millions of people"?
I cast about for some ground on which to take my friend's comment with suitable seriousness. Then I recalled the prophecies of Nostradamus.
Nostradamus was a seer in medieval France. He wrote in terse quatrains predictions that supposedly covered world events for centuries to come. Everyone seems to agree that these forecasts were remarkable. They were so cryptic, however, that there is little unanimity of opinion on what they actually mean.
Assuming Bhrigu's prophetic book to be genuine - so I concluded - his predictions might be along the same order as those of the French seer: Short sentences that could be applied to any number of people by one with enough faith or imagination, or both, to make them fit. "How long are these prophecies?" I inquired. "A line or two?"
My friend smiled sympathetically at my skepticism. "Most of them fill one or two pages. They are so detailed that there isn't the least doubting that the information given for a person actually refers to him, and to no one else".
"I found myself mentioned in the book," said the raja. "I actually found my own name written there. (And you know, Mrigendra is an unusual name.) My wife's and my father's names also appeared in my reading. My birthplace was given correctly."
The raja went on to tell of a number of other cases where people had found their own lives described in this book. In some instances only their initials had been given. Even these references, he said, were anything but vague.
He told me about a prominent lady of Patiala, Mrs. Gurdial Singh of Tehsil Road, who had gone to Bhrigu for a reading. Accompanying her was her brother. Any stranger seeing the couple would naturally have assumed them to be man and wife. They said nothing to the pandit in charge of the book concerning their actual relationship. Yet in her reading it was stated that she had come with her brother. (This was later corroborated by Mrs. Singh personally to the narrator of this story).
"But," I expostulated, "how can millions of lives be described in such detail in a single book".
"Oh, it isn't a bound volume like those of our present age. The books in ancient India consisted of loose leaves tied together into bundles. This 'book' of Bhrigu's is made up of many such bundles. It requires whole rooms to house it. There are several portions of it in various parts of the country. It is known as the Bhrigu Samhita".
"Of course," he added, "not all these portions are equally reliable. There are persons, in fact, who only pretend to have possession of Bhrigu's book, but who read from something quite different."
"I can imagine!" In my mind's eye I could picture the scores of penurious fortunetellers I had seen in the streets of India's crowded cities. What an edge it would give them over their competitors if they could claim exclusive possession of part of so marvellous an ancient document as this!
"These fake custodians of the Bhrigu Samhita daren't, of course, let you examine their pages," my friend continued.
"They will put you off with some pretext or other - perhaps that the readings are too sacted to be passed about, or that they are written in a style which only those with special training can decipher. Of course, frauds will tell you nothing that they couldn't have found out about you during the course of your conversation with them. Beyond that, they will be studiedly vague."
"But if there are frauds," I suggested, "some of them will doubtless be beter at this 'art' than others. So how can one be perfectly sure of any of them?"
"The final proof, of course, rests in the results. I've searched far and wide for genuine samhitas. I'm satisfied that I've found at least one, and possibly two or three."
"In this one particularly, there are none of the disadvantages one so commonly encounters. The pandit allows you to examine your page carefully. He has even permitted me to take mine home and get a photostatic copy made of it (though this is a privilege he seldom grants anyone). A convincing factor, also, is the time it takes him to locate a page. He rarely has any way of knowing in advance who will be coming to him. Yet, unlike other readers I have met, he finds one's reading on the spot. There is no opportunity for him to write it out after having come to know you. And I am impressed by the fact that his fee is low. He cannot be using the book to become rich"
"Finally, of course, many of his predictions have come true."
"Where is this portion that you say you've found?" I inquired.
"It is in a small town called Barnala, only sixty miles from here. Would you like to go there?"
The raja seemed quite in earnest. But could such a exotic manuscript possibly be authentic? I struggled to apply my friend's strange story to what I knew of India's spiritual teachings.

The Hindu scriptures, I recalled, state that time is a mental concept. In their view, life may be compared to a book, the events of which we are conscious only as we pass from page to page. The pages are turned for us. Could we ourselves hold the book, we would be able to look ahead and read what is written in later chapters. Essentially, there is no past, present, and future. These all exist simultaneously. But for practical purposes we may say that the present is where the book is presently opened.

A natural question arises: What about free will? If the future is already determined for us, doesn't this make us all just puppets in the hands of fate? Not so, say the ancient teachings. For it is man himself who determines how his role shall read. The operative principle is the law of cause and effect, known in India as the law of Karma.

Even in creations by human artists whimsical fate is ruled out. Any truly competent author lets his characters work out their own destinies. He may see clearly before he ever writes the first page of a novel, all that must occur to them as the story unfolds. But his book always in a sense "writes itself." He will not force his creations to act "out of character" to suit the predilections of his own nature. Nor will he impose on his characters destinies that they haven't themselves in some way invited.

If God did not know the entire future of His universe and of all its creatures, He would not be omniscient. Foreknowledge need not contradict the doctrine of free will. The human race deteremines its future by what it is, not by what some Higher Being decrees it shall be.

Countless persons have had uncanny feelings - and other, vivid dreams - that something unexpected was going to happen. And it did actually come to pass. Great prophets may be considered simply to have perfected this natural power, infrequently expressed in the lives of ordinary men. In other words, sages have attuned themselves more exactly to the omniscience of God.

I began to wonder seriously, as I struggled through this philosophical hinterland, whether Bhrigu could not, just possibly, have written such an improbable book as this Samhita. If he had, I thought, what impressive support it would give to the claim of modern Hindus that their ancient wisdom was as realistic, in its own way, as out Twentieth Century sciences! The matter seemed well worth the small effort of investigation.

"How can I get to Barnala?" I asked my friend.
"I am going there tomorrow morning," he replied. "I came here today to ask you if you wouldn't like to come along".

Here follow some important excerpts and quotations from the book, a copy of which can be ordered here:

"Bhrigu never tells you anything negative unless there is some positive good that may come of the revelation. He has warned my brother of something serious that could happen to him, but he has also suggested a way out of the predicament."

"The raja continued: "Numerous persons go to the Bhrigu Samhita in Barnala. Very few are reproved by Bhrigu for their weaknesses, moral or otherwise. Bhrigu was a man of God. Like all saints, he preferred encouraging people in their virtues to condemning them for their faults."

The highway to Barnala, though paved, was so uneven it made conversation difficult. The country on both sides of us was mostly flat and uninteresting. Broad, semi-arid fields made way occasionally, as if grudgingly, for tiny, poor villages that clung piteously to the roadside. The people living here seemed to eke out only a bare subsistence from the soil.
I thought sadly of the need of Indian villages for Western technical skills.
And then I found myself meditating on the peace reflected in the faces of so many of the villagers. Have not they, too, something tangible and worthwhile to offer to us in the West? Can we, for all our material glory, honestly say that we have found fulfillment - lacking, as most of us do, contentment and a peaceful heart?
The harsh, dry countryside around us, seemingly resentful of man's intrusion, finally surrendered to the swaggering conquest of the little, bustling town of Barnala. We bounced through narrow streets until we reached Gaushala Road.
Here, in a typical Indian home of modest proportions, lives Pandidt Bhagat Ram, custodian of the Bhrigu Samhita."


"It is a sort of advertisement, telling people that in the Bhrigu Samhita they will find information relating to three incarnations: past, present, and future."
A strange place to advertise, I thought - inside the house! But apparently the Samhita requires no publicity. Already the room was beginning to fill up with people anxious to secure readings for themselves. They squatted quietly in hopeful expectation, like patients in a doctor's parlor.
It would be digressing from our story here to enter into a serious discussion of transmigration of souls. The point may be conssidered, however, that if the Bhrigu Samhita is proved to be genuine it will add considerable weight to the case for this doctrine.
"Speaking of reincarnation," Raha Mrigendra remarked, "there was a woman in here when I first came who was told by Bhrigu that in her last life she lived in Patal-Desh, (ancient Sanskrit writing meaning "the country on the under, or opposite, side of the world" - the Americas)
in the town of 'Wash-ing-ton.' In Sanskrit characters this ancient reading actually spelled out the sounds of the name!"
There were by my side a few loose pages of the Bhrigu Samhita. I examined them. They seemed old, I thought - yet not so ancient as I had expected.
"This is only a copy of the original," someone explained to me. "The actual book written by Bhrigu is believed to be hidden somewhere in Tibet."
The pandit finally entered the room, apologizing for having kept us waiting. We stood up to greet him. He welcomed Raja Mrigendra first, with a trace of deference in his manner for his visitor's rank. Next he was introduced to me.
The pandit's face and bearing impressed me favorably. I was sorry to find that he spoke no English. Others had to translate our conversation, which took time and probably left many thoughts uncommunicated. Nevertheless, we were able to converse together with a fair degree of fluency."


"Taking the page, the pandit began to read. Raja Mrigendra translated for me. This is what I heard:
"AUM. Sri Shukra (the son of Bhrigu) said: 'In the dark half of the month of Margshirsh, on a Monday of the Amavasya, at eight ghatis and thirty palls, (by our reckoning it was November 30, 1959, at about 10.30 a.m.) what is this combination of planets called, and what is the reading of the person who asks a question at this time? What was his last incarnation, and what thoughts has he in his mind on this occasion?"
"Sri Bhrigu answered: 'O Shukra, this planetary combination is known as "Guruka Yoga". According to it the person concerned was born in his last life in the western part of Bharat (India), in a town the name of which begins with the letter K. This city is now ruled by the Yavans, (in ancient times this referred to Karachi, the capital of Pakistan), and is the capital of their country.
"This jiva (individual soul) was born into the arrura branch of the Kshatriya caste. His family was well-to-do. His name was Pujar Das. He was an astik (one having faith in the Vedas) and a religious person...
"After passing years (in that place), he and his wife went together on a pilgrimage. Ultimately their travels took them to the desert, where they visited the ashram (hermitage) of the sage Kapila ..... Here this person remained for many years".
The story took Pujar Das to the time of his death. I have given only such excerpts as may perhaps be of interest to others, particularly from the standpoint of glimpsing the style of which the Bhrigu Samhita was written.
The account then continued: "In this life, after much traveling, he has arrived in my presence, having been coaxed to come here by one of my devotees, a member of a royal family".
I swallowed hard. This part, at least, applied: the extensive travelling; the fact of my having come only after being coaxed; Mrigendra's rank.
"This person's name," the pandit continued, "is Kriyananda".
Stunned, I took the card and passed it to several persons in the room who had come in hope of finding readings for themselves, and who said they were familiar with Sanskrit characters. They all confirmed that it did in fact say Kriyananda. This name is, so far as I know, unique.
The pandit took the page again and continued reading. The account defined correctly the type of spiritual discipline I follow; it mentioned that I had been lecturing in foreign countries; it gave various facts of a personal nature, and made certain predictions. At least as far as the known facts of this life went, the reading was correct.
Bhrigu also answered specifically the questions I had put to him mentally.
As regards my supposed last incarnation, I have at least the following facts to ponder: In this life I never glimpsed a desert until I grew up. Yet the first desert I ever knew, at the age of twenty-two, seemed strangely familiar to me; more than once I mentioned to others that I felt more at home there than anywhere else on earth. Why this sudden love for bare sand and tumbleweed? I had been accustomed to rich greenery, flower gardens, and mountain slopes. Again, the Hindu scriptures exercised an immediate and unusual appeal for me the day when, as a young man, I first read a few excerpts from them in a book called The Short World Bible. My religious upbringing had been orthodox: Episcopalian, mostly. I can think of no influence in this life that would explain either of these spontaneous interests. Doesn't Bhrigu's account offer an intriguing answer?
(It might be of interest here to add that I obtained another reading a few months later, from another portion of the Bhrigu Samhita. In this one a much earlier incarnation was described - because, Bhrigu explained, he had already told me ("in my Yoga Valli") about my last life. My place of birth in this life was correctly given, though misspelled: Rumania was written, "Rumanake". The reading stated that my father named me "James" - my actual first name at baptism. The reading said that I have lived in America. It gave my monastic name, Kriyananda. A fact was brought out about my family that I myself did not know, but that I was able to verify some months later after my return to America. This reading made a number of unexpected predictions, several of which have already since come true.)
Bhagat Ram's usual fee for finding a page and translating it is Rupees 21, which comes to a little over four American dollars. In my case he refused payment because I am a monk

This is in part one of the eight million stories that are stored in the aksha records as given by the Saint Maharishi Brighu in his treasure Brighu Nandi Nadi which has been translated for thousands of years according to ancient Vedic tradition by scholars in persuit of the true Vedic virtues.
For further reference you may contact Metatron concerning the sale of books in English, Sanskrit and Swedish. Besides there is also available from Metatron investigative journals conducted by the San Fransico University of California. Especially by Professor Jurgensmayer
in the department of religious education and furthermore by author Christopher David Lane ("Your life recorded in the world's oldest astrological record").

If you have a serious interest in travelling to India and discover your own records, Premasagarlight.com arranges three week tours to India every year since 1974, conducted by Anders B. Johansson.